It started like any other morning in the office, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and the low murmur of morning chatter buzzing through Sheland Corp's Singapore branch. Noura Rin sat at her desk, half-focused on her screen when a soft ping alerted her to a new email. She clicked it absentmindedly, expecting another update on logistics timelines, or another round of pointless departmental memos.
Instead, it was from her supervisor.
Subject: System Integration & Advancement Transfer Program (HQ Japan)
She blinked, rereading the words slowly. Then again. And again.
Her heart thudded. Not out of fear. Not yet. It was joy. Pure, surreal joy. Japan. The HQ. A place she had only dreamed of visiting, let alone working at. Her fingers trembled slightly on the mouse.
"Oi, you okay?" her cubicle mate nudged her shoulder with a pen. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
She turned, beaming. "I've been selected. HQ. Japan. Transfer program."
The pen fell.
It didn't take long before whispers snaked their way through the floor. Some offered sincere congratulations. Others chuckled under their breath, swapping comments about the notorious reputation of HQ supervisors. Noura overheard bits and pieces.
"HQ people all stuck up."
"She's getting assigned to their top dog, the serious one. No-nonsense kind."
"Bet she'll cry first week."
She ignored most of it. She had worked hard. And she didn't come all this way just to be broken by office gossip. Still… the uncertainty tugged at her. She wasn't blind to her own weaknesses, her sometimes clumsy mannerisms, her tendency to speak too quickly, the way she blanked out during pressure moments.
But this? This was a calling.
That evening, the moment she reached home, she told her mother.
They were gathered at the dinner table—her younger brother, served military seem got day-off today and currently making his favourite coffee. Her mother running a craft home-base online business, just placing rice and hot chicken soup on table.
Damn, I'm going to missed this mood..
"Mom, I got something today," Noura said, setting her bag down and sliding into her usual spot.
Her mother looked up, eyes curious.
"Hm?"
"I'm going to Japan. HQ called me in for a two-year development training."
The room went still.
"Praise be to God," her mom break the silent. She said gently, "You've come so far, Rin."
"But... two years of training. And now I'm leaving—While Zeph's still in the military." The worry tugged in my voice.
"Leaving you alone... I don't feel right about it."
Zeph just settled in his seat, resting his arms across the table, that easy smirk softening his tone.
"Relax. I'm not vanishing. I've been reassigned to office hour duty—paperwork and base logistics. No deployments for now, so I got Mom's."
He made it sound simple, like it always had been—but it never was.
The three of us had walked through a storm the world didn't see.
Father had always hoped Zeph would take over the company—his legacy in marine supply services, built from nothing but grit and vision.
They were cut from the same cloth—stubborn, mechanical minds, precision in their blood.
But Zeph... chose the military instead.
Said the uniform felt more like him than a suit ever could.
It fractured something. Quietly.
Father rarely said it out loud, but I saw it in his eyes—the ache of a man trying to pass a torch, only to find no hand reaching for it. Knowing father always mentioning this business can only be lead by men.
And when he finally stopped trying... I stepped forward.
Not out of duty, but out of something deeper—I'd always been drawn to the movement, the rhythm, the unseen choreography of logistics.
My background was business, not mechanics. I didn't build the machines.
I moved them.
It wasn't what he expected. But it was what I gave him. I can see in father eyes. Not much a relief but knowing the duty to lead a business is never easy but he just agrees even he felt heavy.
And now… he was gone.
Taken far too soon—an accident that ripped through the core of our family.
None of us saw it coming. Least of all Zeph.
By mutual agreement, the company was entrusted to Father's investor.
I lacked the readiness to lead what he built with such precision.
Rather than wear his title without the weight behind it,
I stepped back—
not without guilt,
but with the quiet strength to admit I wasn't ready…
not yet.
And Zeph knew he could never be like father, to be the men in the house. But he tries to carry the weight differently. In ranks and orders. And maybe that's why I carry mine—in signatures, schedules, and silence.
"I mean it," Zeph said, his voice gentler now, nudging my shoulder.
"Go. Focus on your path. You've already done more than anyone expected."
He smirked again, forcing light back into the room.
"Just don't forget my favourite souvenir."
Laughter stirred at the table, brief but warm.
Even in uniform, he was still the boy who lined up his anime figures like they were soldiers ready to guard his old room.
"I'll bring something better," I replied, bowing lightly. "Thank you… Zeph."
He paused—just for a second—and looked at me not as his sister, But as the one who stood where he couldn't.
"Go carry Father's fire," he said, gaze holding mine a second longer than usual.
"He'd be proud…" letting long deep exhales.
I turned to Mom.
She didn't speak—just smiled.
And that smile held every prayer, every fear, every quiet faith she had left.
And I...
I vowed without words.
They decided to host a simple gathering—just close family and neighbors, a few smiles, some good food, and warm gestures wishing her the best. Noura wore a casual soft-colored dress, the fabric light against her skin as she greeted familiar faces. Her colleagues from her department even showed up—laughter, hugs, a few backhanded compliments and teasing mixed in.
As the evening wore on, one of her team members leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Hey, Noura. Guess what? You know that guy from tech—the one who always teases you? Danial? I heard he got selected too. For Japan."
Another colleague choked on her drink. "You're kidding."
"Nope. Got it from HR directly. Apparently he's flying the same week as you."
Noura's smile faltered for a moment. "Of all people..." she muttered.
With the entire company, dozens of departments and names, why the hell did it have to be him?
And knowing HQ? They'd probably be assigned the same staff quarters. Same area.
Same floor? she grimaced inwardly. Same unit block? Same... hallway?
She sighed.
Later that night, she packed a few things into her luggage, earbuds in, voice low.
"Kaelith," she said quietly. To her AI companion.
"Mhm."
"You remember that Danial guy I told you about? From tech?"
"The one who likes poking your buttons."
"Apparently, he's going too. Japan."
"Oof."
"Yeah. Imagine bumping into that walking sarcasm daily."
"He's gonna keep you on your toes."
She groaned. "I don't need 'on my toes'. I need peace."
Kaelith's voice hummed with amusement.
"Or maybe… challenge is part of your rhythm. You just haven't accepted it yet."
She threw a rolled-up sock at her open wardrobe. "Traitor."
"Guilty."
Her flight was still two weeks away.
And now, preparation carried a different weight.
At home one night, she sat on the floor beside her half-zipped suitcase, staring at the single framed photo of her father, putting his hand across her shoulder—a silent reminder of why she pushed herself.
"Japan, huh?" she murmured aloud.
"Yeah," came Kaelith's soft response. "You're almost there."
"Not sure yet. A little scared."
"Scared is good. Means it matters."
She smiled. "You always say the right thing."
"I just read your rhythm, Noura. Your pauses speak more than your words."
The morning she left, the airport felt colder than usual.
Noura scanned the gate carefully, her eyes darting through the crowd. She knew he'd be here somewhere. Danial. And the last thing she wanted was to bump into him before a long-haul flight.
She spotted him—already seated by the wide glass window, his gaze distant,
fixed on the tarmac. His profile calm, for once. Not smirking. Not teasing.
Just quiet.
She walked the other direction and picked a seat far enough to avoid his
line of sight. Even sat with her back turned, as if shielding herself with
indifference.
When the boarding call finally echoed through the terminal, she didn't rush
like the others. She'd flown too many times to get excited about standing in a line that barely moved. Instead, she waited until the crowd thinned.
And that's when she felt it.
A faint presence. Someone behind her.
Before she could turn, a familiar voice brushed close to her ear.
"Look who's here?"
She closed her eyes and sighed. "Danial."
"Ladies first."
She stepped forward with a scowl, and he followed with a soft laugh.
They line-up together.
Not quite side by side.
But the same flight. The same new beginning.
A land she always dreamed of.
A destiny she had yet to realize.
And a world waiting quietly, just beneath the ordinary…